


soft speak with a mean streak

by brucevbanner



Category: Succession (TV 2018)
Genre: Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-26
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-17 05:54:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29712648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brucevbanner/pseuds/brucevbanner
Summary: Tom and Greg play fuck, marry, kill.
Relationships: Greg Hirsch/Tom Wambsgans
Comments: 2
Kudos: 21





	soft speak with a mean streak

**Author's Note:**

> this is the first tomgreg fic i've ever written so lets see how this goes... these two dumbasses have really occupied all my brain capacity for the past six months and i love them for it.
> 
> title is from cigarette daydreams by cage the elephant.

“Fuck, marry, kill, Kendall, Roman, and… me,” Tom says while lying on Greg’s couch, empty beer bottles and shot glasses scattered across the coffee table.

Greg looks up from his place on the floor, a little puzzled, “Oh, come on dude, they’re my cousins.”

“Fuck off Greg, just play along, it’s all hypothetical for God’s sake.”

Every time Tom appears at Greg’s apartment after a night out Greg feels uneasy. He never knows what to expect from Tom’s not-so-subtle touches and offhand comments. It’s hard enough dealing with it during work, but after a few drinks, Tom’s inhibitions lowered, and things got just a little bit more questionable.

“I dunno man… I feel- I feel like I’m too sober for this,” Greg replies, not in the mood for Tom’s games tonight “Can’t we just watch a movie or something?”

Tom rolls his eyes and looks down at Greg, “No, Greg, I’m not watching one of your little movies, I’m here to have fun.”

Greg lets out an exasperated sigh and replies, “Okay, okay, fine,” he takes a sip of his half empty beer while thinking about the least offensive way to rank his cousins and Tom. “Like… okay, all hypothetically, marry Kendall, kill Roman, and uh, fuck you… I guess?”

Tom lets out an amused laugh which fills the silence the lingers in the air after Greg’s response, “Wow, who would’ve thought? Cousin Greg wants to fuck _me_?”

Greg’s cheeks turn red, “Dude- that’s like, not fair Kendall and Roman are my cousins you set me up!”

“Uh huh, sure Greg, whatever you say,” Tom looks amused, as if this was his intention the whole time. A few beats pass, “Maybe in another life though, right bud?” Tom looks pensive. The mood in the air changes.

 _Jesus Christ._ What has Greg gotten himself into? Like yeah, sure, he might have a tiny crush on his boss, his cousin’s husband, Tom Wambsgans of all people. But that was meant to be kept under wraps—it doesn’t matter anyway, Tom is with Shiv, Tom is his boss, Tom is… Tom. But now, seeing the expression on Tom’s face, the almost sadness lingering in his eyes, he feels like their dynamic has shifted in a way that neither of them know how to handle. That despite his effort to pass his comment off as a joke there may be some truth to it, some longing.

Greg laughs nervously, “Yeah, maybe,” not knowing what else to say to fill the silence.

Tom plasters a smile on his face, “Gotcha Gregory! Obviously, I’m joking.”

“Right, yeah sure. Obviously.” Greg fidgets with his fingers.

Neither of them say anything else.

God, Greg was an idiot. He’d spent so long convincing himself that his little crush on Tom Wambsgans meant nothing, that Tom would never be interested, only to fall into his trap yet again. Hope was a nasty thing, and Greg never let himself have hope, but these last few minutes he’d let himself believe and he had been disappointed, once again.

Minutes pass. The deafening silence lingers, filled with unspoken words. Everything they long to say to one another sitting in the air between them like bullets in a gun, waiting for someone to pull the trigger.

Tom stands up, clearly still feeling the effect of the drinks he’d knocked back, “Greg?”

“Yeah, Tom?” Greg replies, looking anywhere but at Tom.

Tom paces the room for a moment, deep in thought, as if he hadn’t heard Greg. He runs a hand through his hair, and finally sits down next to Greg on the floor, shoulders touching. He takes a deep breath as if he’s about to say something, but instead just sighs and leans his head on Greg’s shoulder.

Greg holds his breath, scared that if he makes a sound everything will come crumbling down. Scared that Tom will get up and leave with no explanation. But he doesn’t.

Greg finally looks over at him, worried, “Tom? Are you okay?”

Tom says nothing. He looks up at Greg, their eyes meet, and Greg smiles weakly.

None of this was in the realm of possibility when Tom arrived at Greg’s apartment earlier. If someone had told Greg this was how he was going to be spending his evening he wouldn’t have believed them. He still doesn’t know what to think, he has one hundred thoughts bouncing around his head and can’t seem to focus on a single one. The only thing at the forefront of his mind is the way Tom is looking at him.

A few seconds pass, finally, Tom places a hand on Greg’s thigh, leans in and presses a chaste kiss to Greg’s lips. Greg’s mind goes blank, the only thing he can focus on is Tom’s hand on his thigh and his lips on Greg’s. And then suddenly, the sensation disappears.

“I’m so sorry.” Tom murmurs, regretful.

“God don’t apologise, Tom.” Greg reaches out and takes Tom’s hand. Tom doesn’t say anything else but gently squeezes it, clearly in a battle with himself about what to do next.

“Greg, I’m so sorry, I- I shouldn’t have done that. I know that stupid game meant nothing, and I took it too far.”

Greg shuffles over so he can look Tom in the eyes, their hands still clasped, “No man, like… I’ve wanted you to do that since the first day we met.”

Tom looks up in disbelief, and absentmindedly runs his thumb up and down the back of Greg’s hand. He doesn’t say anything for a moment, and Greg worries he’s overstepped his boundaries, worries Tom’s suddenly going to get up and leave and never speak to him again.

But then Tom whispers, “I wish- I wish that we’d met under different circumstances. A world where I didn’t work for ATN, where I hadn’t married Shiv, where our lives weren’t intertwined with a conservative media company,” tears were beginning to well up in Tom’s eyes, “I think, we still would have met, we would’ve been happier, it would’ve been easier.”

Greg pulls Tom into a hug as tears run down Tom’s cheeks, “Hey man, it’s okay, there’s plenty of time to figure things out later, it doesn’t have to be right now. We can work through it together.”

Tom pulls away, shakes his head and laughs humourlessly, “You don’t get it Greg, there is no ‘later’, this is it. I’m with Shiv, we both work for Logan, and I’m in my forties… there is no later.” Tom wipes his tears and checks his phone to see two missed calls from Shiv, “I should get going, I’m sorry again, I shouldn’t have let my feelings get the best of me, you deserve better than that.”

“Come on man, don’t be ridiculous. We can like, deal with the ATN shit… and with Shiv! It could fit under your ‘arrangement’ with her. You don’t have to leave now; we can figure it out.” Greg pleads, unsure of what else to say that would convince Tom that this didn’t have to be a one-time thing, that they could be happy together, despite the obstacles. He can’t bear to lose Tom now, not after everything, not after Tom’s confession, especially not after their kiss. 

Tom presses another kiss to Greg’s lips and gets up to leave. He offers Greg a sad smile, and whispers “I’m sorry again, Greg.” while Greg racks his brain to find something, anything, to say that’ll make Tom stay.

He comes up empty.

Tom leaves.

**Author's Note:**

> so sorry for leaving it on that note :/  
> feel free to tweet at me i'm also @brucevbanner on twitter (also darrenrcriss on tumblr but i'm not super active)


End file.
